


The Price

by Dream_Wreaver



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gabenath Server Secret Santa, Historical AU, Visions and Dreams, dealing with death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: Nathalie Sancoeur knows not what awaits her when after a shipwreck she is washed ashore to the estate of Lord Gabriel Agreste. Nor does she know the price Gabriel will soon have to pay, or how it's connected to her.





	The Price

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraLynne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraLynne/gifts).



> Secret Santa time! My giftee was the ever so wonderful Auroralynne. Hope you like it you absolute muse!

Thunder, she remembered thunder. The booming sound and the momentous crackling of light as it struck at the poor vessel. Nathalie remembered smoke, thick and heavy settling around the ship like a blanket as the flames made quick work of the wood. She had never felt so powerful and yet powerless. While the men had floundered around on the deck as though they’d never felt a rocking wave before in their life Nathalie had felt an eerie calm. A sort of displacement from the rest of the world around her, still tethered to her universe but simultaneously present and removed. The colors, the crackling flames… she knew powerlessness, and yet to see the men panic in the face of it, there was a sort of cold condescension now. 

They had left from the southern coast of France, bound for the Americas, Nathalie was supposed to have gone and met her new fiance Jonathan Stone, a wealthy American heir who had a penchant for music. It had been arranged by their parents since their births practically. But once the revolution had begun… Nathalie had no other choice. Her parents had willingly stripped themselves of their wealth and titles in order to save their own necks from the cold blade of the guillotine. The only way to get it back was to marry her off before the Stones realized what they had done.

Except, now; now she remembered water, bitter and salty on her tongue. She remembered rolling waves thrashing her about. A tempest just as had been spoken of by the sailors. They’d been caught right in the middle of it. Nathalie remembered kicking, and ripping, trying to free her body of the waves’ weight as they persisted in trying to drag her down into the fathomless depths below. Of course, she’d had no way of knowing which way was up at the time, and it was only due to sheer luck she’d been able to break the surface, swallowing the by comparison fresh water as it fell in deluges from the sky. Some barely coherent part of her, clinging to life grabbed a floating piece that passed by and she held onto it for dear life. The current began to gently push her away, though in what direction Nathalie couldn’t be sure. Tired, she’d been so tired after that fight to the surface, after the fire, after falling into the water. There was no telling if she would slip from the boards in her sleep, but she had not the strength to remain awake any longer. She drifted, in the water and off to sleep.

When she awoke it was to the sound of gentle lapping. The kind one heard as they strolled along the shoreline of the coast. Nathalie herself woke up still clinging to the board even as she rested on the sand in the shallows of the water. She was cold, and indecently dressed all things considered, but she was alive for right now. And that was the most important thing. Providence had definitely smiled on her since not only was she alive, but relatively unharmed. Her clothing had been ripped, and her glasses were gone, but she was otherwise intact. The coastline looked unfamiliar, but then she’d never traveled outside of Paris and she could barely see three feet in front of her. She could be in France, she could have been in Spain or Portugal for all she would have recognized anything. The only thing that occupied her field of vision was the large cliff, sprouting from which was some sort of massive edifice, unmistakable even through her hazy sight. As for what it was, however, she couldn’t tell. Unsteadily Nathalie rose to her feet. She’d lost her shoes, a good chunk of her skirts, and everything she’d owned that had been placed on that ship; which, all things considered, wasn’t much. What the rebels hadn’t taken had left them with very little she cared for, and those things she’d purposefully left behind to be sent for later. She left the discarded piece of driftwood on the sand as she made her way across the terrain in the same manner as an infant deer learning how to walk, the board was no longer needed.

She had just risen over the first bluff when someone spotted her. Unfortunately, that someone was not someone who looked even remotely trustworthy. Instead he was a great, hulking, bear of a man. And even bear didn’t seem like the right descriptor. He was bigger than that. Still, she had no one else. And even from this distance she knew it would be folly to run away. Given that his size made him a discernable lump Nathalie knew unless she could outmaneuver him there would be no escape. And without her glasses that was an absolute impossibility. The best thing to do would be to try and placate him, and hope like hell she wouldn’t be despoiled on site.

“Excuse me?” her voice was hoarse, likely from all the seawater she’d swallowed, and also the reason for her sudden dizziness. Nevertheless, she’d caught the man’s attention. He began striding towards her, looking bigger than ever. Nathalie dry-swallowed, “Um… Do you speak French?” she tried in her native language. The man stopped, but did not answered, “Um… English?” she tried again, this time in the language she’d been learning in preparation for her new life. Still no response. Well, those were the only two languages she knew, and if he didn’t respond, she must not have been in a place that used either of them.

Dwarfed by the man as he stood before her, Nathalie had to mentally reprimand herself for allowing her knees to shake. But she couldn’t help it, she’d just been through such an ordeal and he was an intimidating man. But by some small mercy, the way he looked at her was in a detached and clinical way, like she was being visited by a physician looking to see what was wrong with her. There was no lust in his gaze, no fire, no anything. Just a cold detachment, but even so Nathalie began to shiver, likely because she was still cold from the night spent in the freezing waters.

He grunted after a moment and scooped her up in his arms. Nathalie yelped in surprise and fear but really didn’t have the strength to fight back. He took her to a large sprawling mansion which resided perhaps a mile from the cliffside where the gray lump kept vigil. Through the front door he took her, and watched as an almost nervous looking man stopped what he was doing.

“Pierce?” he tilted his head to the side, “What happened? Why is there a girl in your arms and… why is she so immodestly dressed?”

Nathalie almost let out a laugh of relief, because the man was speaking French. Maybe she hadn’t drifted too far out after all. Pierce, for apparently that was the hulking man’s name, merely grunted in response. But, and perhaps this was due to the undetermined length of time they had been working together, the small nervous man with the soft lilac hair which was neatly kept back save for one rebellious curl that dropped smack dab in the center of his forehead was able to understand him.

“Oh, oh of course. Yes, you’re right. I’ll go get the master, he’ll be able to sort everything out.”

He scurried off and returned a few moments later with a man that was somehow even  _ more _ intimidating than the giant who held her in his arms. Though the former was nowhere near as tall as the latter. He was dressed in a white coat -speaking of wealth and lack of responsibility- and red trousers. An odd combination, but who was she to judge? Currently she was in the tattered remains of her black chemise and robe and soaked to the skin. Nathalie sucked in a breath as silently as she could.

“And who,” the man in white said, “May I ask, are you?”

“N-” it took her a moment to get the words out, since she hadn’t realized her teeth had begun chattering from the cold, “Nynette monseigneur, Nynette Severin.”

He raised a brow at that, “Oh really?” he asked, “How quaint,”

“Monseigneur?” Nathalie asked.

“No, no, by all means, Mademoiselle Severin,” he held up his hand, “Allow me to introduce myself, Nooroo,” he prompted, looking to his purple haired companion.

“Of course, master,” the man, Nooroo, replied, “This is Duc Gabriel Agreste mademoiselle Severin.”

“A,” she hesitated, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance your grace. I would bow, but well,” she shrugged helplessly. Pierce had not yet put her down.

Lord Gabriel stared at her, peering closely at her face in particular, “Is there something wrong Mademoiselle Severin?” he asked, “You appear to be having trouble focusing.”

“Pardon?”

“Your eyes, mademoiselle,” he indicated, “Do you wear glasses?”

“Normally, yes,” she admitted, “They were lost in the storm, I’m honestly lucky that’s the only thing I lost.”

“Traveling light then?” there was a small quirk at the corner of his mouth, as though she amused him, but he was determined not to show it.

“Something like that, yes,” Nathalie agreed.

“Well then, now that that has been settled, how did it come about that you were brought before me looking like a drowned and hairless rat?”

Pierce grunted.

“I’m well aware there was a storm last night Pierce,” Gabriel turned his attention to the hulking manservant, “And for the love of God put the lady down. Unless her legs are broken or otherwise injured you can stop infantilizing her like that.”

The other man hesitated for a moment, and it felt like he desperately wanted to defy his boss for one reason or another. But, he obeyed and gently set her to her feet. The moment he did Nathalie almost wanted to ask if he would pick her back up again. At least then she and Lord Gabriel were on more or less equal footing. Now? Now he stood at least a head taller than her and Nathalie had the feeling he was looking down on her in more ways than one. Not only that, Nathalie could now tell what Pierce had been doing. In her dazed wandering she’d recognized but not really registered the sensation of the ground beneath her bare feet. Now, however, the plush ornate rug was impossible to miss, which meant noticing the cool air around her ankles, exposed by the ripped shreds of the bottom part of the skirt. Since the walk over, she’d dried some what, but given she was only in a thin robe and chemise -made for sleeping and not for receiving- and her body was still wracked with a sort of inner cold that probably should have had more immediate attention by now, her body was very overtly reacting in a way which likely made her probably unwilling host think her a wanton harlot. Instantly Nathalie hunched over, hoping to mitigate the damage with her posture and her hair, all the while a violent shiver began to take over her body, now that the unintended warmth from Pierce’s body was no longer transferring to her own.

“Master,” Nooroo gently interjected, “Perhaps it would be best if the lady received medical attention before we continued questioning her? She looks ready to faint.”

Not ready, already halfway there. Between the chill from a night spent in the water and psychogenic shock of everything that had happened, Nathalie had gone from desperately cold to feverishly warm in what felt like a snap. Her head swam uncomfortably and she felt unbearably dizzy. She wavered, swaying forward and back, inclining more forward because of how she’d positioned herself. For a moment, the world went black, and by the time she recovered she was already falling. There was a sturdy thump as she hit something, she couldn’t see what, probably the floor though. But did floors, even the floors of noblemen’s houses, feel this soft? Nathalie didn’t think so, but then again she couldn’t think of anything right now. Her ears rung, and from somewhere far away she heard voices, muted and muffled. Her eyes were too heavy to open, and consciousness was like a greasy pig, impossible to grasp.

Nathalie woke to warmth surrounding her, opening bleary eyes to blurry vision she could discern she'd been moved to a bedroom of some sorts and was now covered in blankets of the highest quality. Quality she hadn't seen in almost a year as her parents had tried in some meager way to resist the revolutionaries as they called for the heads of more and more nobles. The Sancoeurs had sold their noble titles for their freedom, but that meant all the trappings of bourgeoise wealth had had to go with it. As she moved under the covers, trying to regain her bearings and memories of what had led to this she let it a soft, barely there groan. But someone was apparently watching over her and this drew their attention. 

“Oh good,” the voice was feminine, so not anyone she had met before she fainted, “You're awake. I was just finishing filling the tub. I think you're warm enough not to go into shock, but a hot bath can only do you good right about now, don't you think?”

“Huh?” Nathalie replied as she struggled to sit up. The woman instantly rushed over, bringing her features into hazy, but clearer focus. Bluish black hair and startling magenta eyes. Somehow nothing about this seemed out of the ordinary to her. Not in this state anyways.

“Come now, come now,” the woman tutted, “Out of bed and into the tub with you dear. You need to get warm and you need to get clean. Goodness! Even your hair needs a good soak. I'll get a tub for that too…”

Numbly Nathalie was hastened into the tub, only belatedly realizing that at some point during her unconsciousness she'd been stripped of the clothes she'd been wearing and they hadn't been replaced. The shock and outrage would have to come later though, right now there was simply too much to process.

The woman, at some point she mentioned her name was Duusu, took care of everything. Nathalie was grateful for as it allowed her to try and wade through all the conflicting feelings without actually dealing with them. Breaking down in hysterics could wait until after she was returned home.

“Alright, you're all cleaned and dressed now,” Duusu clapped her hands together with finality, “If you're feeling up to it, the master said he wanted to see you as soon as you could. What do you say Mademoiselle Severin?”

“Is there any possible way at all to avoid the conversation entirely?” Nathalie deadpanned.

Duusu started at her a moment, and then burst out into laughter, “Oh,” she remarked through her mirth, “You'll be good for him, I'm sure.”

What the maid meant by those words, Nathalie would wonder. Even worse though, it wasn't until she was already standing with Nooroo as he knocked on the door of his master’s study that she realized she could have simply pushed back this confrontation by saying not only had she been through a terrible ordeal, but she had started her monthly that very day. It was one of the very few privileges of being female; superior lying skills, and having a natural phenomena that one could blame to get out of just about anything. Oh well, nothing for it now.

Gabriel was sitting behind his desk. Nooroo announced her presence and quickly left them alone. Apparently their boss had enough of a character to trust, or leave, a defenseless maiden to him without thought of what might happen, either to her or her reputation. The lord of the estate was silent a moment, a long, torturous moment. Nathalie didn’t know what to do, so she just kept standing there awkwardly.

“Tell me, Mademoiselle Severin,” he began, “Do you think I am a fool?”

“Monseigneur?” she tilted her head to the side.

“Just as I asked; do you think, that I am a fool?”

“I don’t see how you could have given me that impression in the brief instance I had of you before this,” Nathalie reasoned, “So my estimation is no, you are not a fool.”

“Then perhaps you would be willing to tell me how you thought you might get away with bold-face lying to me in my own home and thinking you could enjoy any benefit from it.”

“Lying, monseigneur?”

“You may cut the innocent act Mademoiselle Severin, or should I say, Mademoiselle Sancoeur.”

Nathalie stiffened, “H-how did you know that?”

“I just asked you if you thought me a fool, and you said no, so how did you think you could fool me about your identity? Everything about your bearing suggests noble upbringing, and just before Duusu tossed those rags you'd been washed ashore in I examined the fabric myself. Tell me, would a middle class lady have some of the finest silk money can buy in her possession? No. And as for figuring out which noble lady was washed ashore, travel logs from around these parts are not so hard to come by when you practically own the damn port yourself.”

“Oh,” Nathalie replied.

“‘Oh’ indeed. Now, tell me, I thought all the nobility in Paris had been eradicated.”

“It was sir, my family gave up their title and wealth to pay their way out of the guillotine.”

“So how did it come about that you were washed up on my shores?”

“I was being sent to America to meet my fiance. My parents planned to restore their lost wealth through the union. But there was a storm, I don't remember much after that. When I woke up, I was on the shores near your estate.”

“I see,” Gabriel put a hand to his chin in thought, “Well now, what are you going to do?”

“Pardon?”

“You're here already, the sole survivor of the storm. While I was gathering information I asked about the readings on the sea. According to the seasoned seamen there won't be any ships sailing anytime soon. You won't be able to go to America for at least a fortnight, barring any unexpected weather changes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“My estate resides on the coast, naturally I would have developed the ability to read the weather patterns, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” Nathalie didn’t have anything she could say to that. He had a point.

“Yes, hmm,” Gabriel mused, “Well I suppose there's nothing for it then. You'll just have to stay here with us for the time being.”

Nathalie blinked, “What?”

“You were raised in a well to do family Mademoiselle Sancoeur,” Gabriel gazed sharply at her, “Don't tell me you squandered that opportunity.”

“No, no, I heard you loud and clear,” Nathalie assured him, “It's just, I mean, it isn't that I'm ungrateful for the offer of hospitality, but surely I couldn't stay here. What would people say?”

“People would say you've clearly been in an accident of some kind and that staying and resting for a short while could only be to your benefit. My tenants won't talk, and even if they did it's unlikely the gossip would reach all the way back to Paris, even less likely it would reach back to America. We’ll send for your parents to come and retrieve you.”

“But…” Nathalie struggled for an excuse, “What about the lady of the house, surely she would object to my presence here.”

“You assume the lady of the house  _ is _ here, which she is not. Regardless though, she would welcome you with open arms had she been here. I will honor the way she would have acted,”

There was an odd, stilted manner which surrounded the way he spoke of the lady of the house, as though it were something uncomfortable to address. He looked too old to not have been married before, so perhaps it had something to do with the lady’s absence. It took only a moment to put two and two together.

“Oh,” Nathalie said quietly, immediately casting her gaze to the floor, “Forgive my gaucheness your grace. I didn’t think-”

“Women so often don’t, I’ve found,” Gabriel dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand, “I’ll see to it you’re well treated while you’re here. I've been feeling the house has lacked a true… feminine touch as of late.”

“I… just what are you implying?”

“I'm saying, you're welcome to stay as long as you like. I'll take care of the necessary correspondence between your parents and your former fiancé.”

“Former?” Nathalie sputtered, “Just what are you on about? With all due respect your grace, this betrothal has been arranged practically since my birth, and hastened only by the revolution. However, that does not make it any less important to me. I promised I would go and once I recover that is exactly what I shall do.”

“I see…Tell me,” Gabriel began as he stood from his seat, “How do you feel about your fiancé?”

Nathalie blinked, “Why all the candid questions about my life?”

“Merely trying to get a gauge on your character Mademoiselle Sancoeur,” Gabriel replied, “Now stop avoiding them and we just might get somewhere.”

“Fine,” Nathalie gave a showy little huff, trying to come off as petulant and irritating, “For your information  _ your grace _ , I don't feel anything towards him. I mean, we've communicated once or twice and he's a wonderful personality, but I would be lying if I said I were even remotely interested in him romantically.”

“What?” Gabriel gave an amused smirk, “You don't hold a tender for your groom?”

“Considering this is what has always been expected of me, no.” Nathalie replied flatly, “Marriage is nothing more than a social transaction. The Stone family gets a wife of noble French blood, my parents at the time were going to get even  _ more _ money than they knew what to do with and a foothold into American economics. Now, they get enough money to support their former lifestyle, or some modicum of it at least.”

“And you think I couldn’t provide that?”

“Why on earth would you be offering?” Nathalie pressed, “You don’t look like you’re in want of a wife, second or otherwise.”

“Ah, but there’s no other way a young woman would be allowed to live with a man without ruining her reputation, is there?” he countered, “Even as remote as this place is, you still worry. That’s the whole reason you don’t wish to stay, isn’t it?”

“I’m not worried,” Nathalie corrected, “And as a matter of fact I’m rather insulted that you think any female who washed ashore would be grateful to spend the rest of their lives under your thumb. I appreciate everything you have done to care for me thus far your grace, but I will now gladly remove myself from your home if it’s all the same..”

“And how do you propose you do that?” Gabriel asked her, “You can’t see a thing without your lost glasses, and you don’t know the area. All you’ll succeed in doing is getting yourself hopelessly lost, or worse.”

“I-” Nathalie stopped short, she hadn’t exactly thought of that, “I can handle myself just fine thank you.”

“A nice evasion, but still rather sloppy. Even if you do manage to run away, you’d still be under my care until they manage to send someone for you though,” Gabriel pointed out.

“I can stay in a nearby village,”

“And who do you think they report to?”

“Silence can be bought,”

“With what money? You came into my house in nothing but a ruined nightgown and robe. If you couldn’t even hang on to your own spectacles, what makes you think I believe you were able to secret money on your person, and what makes you think it would be enough to bribe my tenants?”

Nathalie glared silently at him but offered no retort.

“I have to admit, Mademoiselle Sancoeur, your bluffing is quite good. But you reach too far in this instance. Just, stay, we’ll send word to your parents, Paris is only about a week’s ride away. Two at most if the weather gets particularly inclement.”

Nathalie flicked her gaze to the floor, and stared hard at it for a long, long moment, “Why are you forcing my hand like this?” she finally asked.

“Because you’re clearly easily frustrated despite how hard you try to conceal it, and I find it highly amusing since I’ve sorely lacked for entertainment as of late.” Gabriel shrugged, “In less personal honesty though, I am nothing if not a gentleman. You had the fortune to wash up on my shore, can I not be a good samaritan and keep you safe until you are no longer my burden to bear?”

“Burden?” Nathalie raised a brow at him, “And how does my bearing as a burden make you a good samaritan?”

“Touche,” Gabriel replied, “Think it over though. At the very least, stay the night. I’ll have the letter sent out immediately and hopefully you’ll have word back by tomorrow.”

“You make it sound cut and dried when I haven't even agreed to anything.”

“Let me put it to you this way Mademoiselle Sancoeur,” Gabriel leaned forward, bracing his chin atop his interlaced fingers, “What choice do you have?”

MLB

“I have to admit,” Gabriel remarked later that night, so late it was actually early into the next morning. Nathalie was standing before him in stolen attire, breeches and a shirt she’d lifted from a room when she’d gone exploring, Pierce’s reading glasses that only somewhat mitigated the blurriness of her natural vision, the only missing element was the horse she’d stolen. The animal had quickly been returned to its stall in Gabriel’s stables, “It’s impressive you tried to escape without even so much as a map, or a lantern to guide your way. Is my company that detestable Mademoiselle Sancoeur?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s detestable,” Nathalie replied, “All the same I can’t imagine living here for more than a day.”

“What a pity,” Gabriel mused, “Because now you leave me no choice. You are going to stay in your rooms,  _ on the second floor _ , for the rest of the day. If you can manage that without any trouble then perhaps I’ll extend your freedom to the rest of the house. But, you will be accompanied at all times, and until your parents send for you, or you can guarantee you won’t try to escape, you won’t be allowed outside.”

“Allow me to give you that promise now then,” Nathalie told him, “It was more out of morbid curiosity and sheer stubbornness I even tried to escape in the first place. Did I honestly think that I would get very far? No, certainly not. All the same I’ve never taken well to being told I simply cannot do something.”

“Refreshing as I find your candor now Nathalie,” he used her first name solely because he wanted to irritate her by insinuating closeness where there was none, “You have proven already you cannot be trusted. Find a way to fix that, and I might be more willing to overlook obvious lies in the future.”

“You imply there’s going to be much of a future when you yourself said that it’s only about a week’s ride. Which reminds me, how did you think your missive would reach the city by tomorrow if that is the case?”

“You seem to forget about night riders and resting, but fair enough.” Gabriel stood with his arms folded, “You make a nice boy Mademoiselle, but you lack the skills to convey yourself as one.”

Nathalie glared at him, “Is there any other wisdom or may I go to bed and begin my imprisonment?”

“Remember, this was a cage you locked yourself into,” Gabriel pointed out, “Though, if Pierce’s reading glasses help you see, by all means keep them. The man himself certainly won’t get as much use out of them as you will.”

And so it came to pass that Nathalie stayed. A few days passed, and they got the letter back. Well,  _ Gabriel _ got the letter back, and he refused to let her read it.

“It was addressed to me,” he said as he locked the letter away in a safe. Why he did that blatantly in front of her Nathalie couldn’t understand; was he testing her? Trying to see if she would break in? “Your parents said they would send someone within the week.”

But then a week passed, and no one had shown up. Nathalie wasn’t at a loss for anything to do by any means, but even the diversions became dull and monotonous. Gabriel still wouldn’t allow her outside. When she asked about it she was told, “There’s no guarantee your parents sent someone out there immediately, give it time.”

But time came, and time went. And the funny thing was, the longer time seemed to march on, the less Nathalie noticed it. The persistent ticking of the clock became nothing more than background noise. The entries she’d written in the journal she’d mercifully been given to help alleviate her boredom went from being precisely dated with month day and year, to month and day, and eventually just month. She knew she had been here a long while, but the days, the nights, one melted into the other without any real cognizance of time passing. She would wake up, get food, while away the hours with a book or some other activity, then she would go to bed again. Whether it was light or dark outside made no difference to this routine.

But, it seemed everyone in this house had their routine, including its master. His routine was typically to lock himself away doing work, and yet, there was a certain stroke of time just around dusk when he would emerge from his isolated study. Nooroo would accompany him and they would venture to that large building, which Nathalie had later learned was the Agreste family crypt.

“Every family member has been buried in that building?” Nathalie asked as she watched the two men 

“Every one in recent memory,” Duusu replied, “But that’s something you should ask the master about.”

The nights were, perhaps, the most interesting of times. Because nights meant sleeping, and sleeping meant dreaming; and Nathalie’s dreams here were so unlike her usual ones. To a point, they could even be considered disturbing, more nightmare than sweet dream. She remembered very little about them upon waking, only that they set her heart pounding and seemed a much better alternative to the doldrum of her waking hours. Perhaps it was because there were too many gothic novels in the library, but Nathalie began to imagine her new temporary home was much like those crumbling castles of old. Her host certainly seemed to fit the archetype. All she needed now was a ghost. And the golden woman in the massive portrait in the portrait hall made the perfect imaginary specter.

At least, she did until Nathalie began seeing her out of her mind’s own eye. What had started as merely a way to help pass the time began to become more a game she was an unwilling participant in. She began to notice the woman’s face more and more, seeing it in smaller paintings all over the house, a statue she’d never paid attention to while watching the garden, disappearing around corners as though she were really alive.

“I don’t get it Duusu,” Nathalie, lamented, “Everytime I close my eyes it feels like she’s there. Who is she? What does she want from me?”

“What does who want dear?”

“The lady,” Nathalie explained, “The lady in the giant portrait. I began playing make-believe purely because I thought I was going to go insane from boredom. But now, now I think I really  _ am _ going insane. I have to exorcise this ghost, somehow. But I don’t even have the faintest idea of who she is.”

“Did you say the lady in the giant portrait?” the maid halted her task and looked at the guest.

“Yes, who is she?”

“That…” Duusu paused, “Is something you’d have to ask the master about. I had really hoped-” she shut her mouth and shook her head.

“You hoped what?”

“It’s not proper,” Duusu replied.

“What is it Duusu?” Nathalie pressed.

“I really hoped… that he might let you in,” Duusu sighed, “You two, you’re so alike, you’re from the same world. If anyone could break through to him, I thought it might be a familiar shadow of comfort. But he just stays away from you, I wonder…”

“Yes?” Nathalie breathed, this was honestly the most exciting thing that had happened to her aside from her arrival. 

“Maybe…” Duusu murmured as though in thought to herself, “Maybe he’s afraid.”

“What could he possibly be afraid of?” Nathalie asked.

“That,” Duusu said, “Is something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself.”

And so, Nathalie made it a point to make a nuisance of herself. She followed him around, claiming a chair in his study for herself. She would knit or read, or even write. Anything to keep the ghost of her own invention at bay. They worked in silence, an uncomfortable one at first. Gabriel seemed as though he was stuck, he didn’t want her around but if he sent her away he would lose whatever game he seemed to think they were playing.

“May I ask why you feel the need to invade my personal space while I work?” Gabriel asked her one day.

“May I ask why you have thus far avoided me and forced me to do this since I cannot attempt another escape if only to sate my boredom?” Nathalie countered.

“If you were trying to confuse me into an honest answer, you have failed. Almost didn’t, but did in the end.”

“My intention was not to befuddle you into honesty. Honesty itself seems beyond your capabilities. I do, however, think I am owed an answer when I am left alone in a large empty house with no one but the servants to entertain me when they have their own jobs to do. As a host, entertaining a guest, especially one you insisted upon having, falls to you, not them.”

“I am a busy man,” Gabriel dismissed the notion, “I haven’t the time to babysit women who are grown enough to occupy their own time.”

“I could tell,” Nathalie replied flatly, “I suppose that explains the trips to the mausoleum you make every evening, right? Busy playing with the dead?”

That made him stop, “You have no idea what lies behind that vault’s door,” he practically hissed, “Nor is it your business to know. What I do in my family crypt is my own business,”

“Then maybe you should make your visits less obvious and predictable,” Nathalie countered, “Be that as it may, Nooroo, Duusu, and Pierce all have their own duties to attend to. They cannot spend their hours occupying me, and you have not yet lifted the ban on my venturing outside. Nor, have I been given word on when my parents are going to come for me.”

“Must you worry about that?” Gabriel asked, “Can you not be like any other girl and simply be thrilled to live under someone’s roof without needing to pay for all that she indulges in?”

“The fact that you have such a poor opinion of other women leaves me much more insulted than my supposed difference from them,” Nathalie folded her arms, “Regardless, I have to ask you honestly, am I a burden?”

“What? No,” Gabriel told her, “I am simply not good at entertaining. Emilie-” he paused with seemingly no intention to continue.

“Emilie?” Nathalie paused, “Is she- was she your wife?”

“She was, is, my everything,” Gabriel answered, “For twenty years. And now,” he sighed, “My life story is not one anyone should or would care to hear. I am not someone adept at dealing with anyone, members of the opposite sex included. But, I find you much more capable than I have been led to believe other young socialites, even deposed ones, are. Believe me, if I didn’t care to have you around I would have sent you packing long ago. I don’t… dislike you.”

“But do you like me?” Nathalie pressed.

“I’m, I’m not sure I can,” Gabriel replied. He looked at the time as it chimed the hour. He knew, they both knew. “I have to go.”

Nathalie watched him leave. Suddenly, she felt… tired. The days that had passed with such unnoticed levity now seemed to weigh heavily on her. She didn’t know what to make of the man who kept her here. Or did he? There wasn’t much enforcement of her restriction outside. As far as Nathalie could surmise the entire house was run by three people excluding the master, which meant those three were incredibly busy. And yet, way less busy than they probably should have been. While they were always occupied, they -namely Nooroo and Duusu- never worked frantically or with any sort of haste. It felt in all honesty like they did it to cure their own boredom as much as Nathalie talked to them to cure hers.

But Gabriel. Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel. He was an enigma in and of himself. Those days spent in silence, awkward had turned to companionable had it not? Or was she simply confusing herself due to her isolation. Was she convincing herself of things that were not truly there? Sleep, she needed sleep. But even sleep could not provide a reprieve from her tumultuous thoughts.

For sleep brought dreams. And in her dreams, the woman was there. Blonde hair like spun sunlight, and eyes of verdant green. She seemed serene, but worried about something. Nathalie opened her mouth but no words would come. The woman looked straight at her.

_ “We’re running out of time,” _ she said, voice like a lilting melody. One of melancholy and sadness, and yet the infinite joy of pure unadulterated love.

“What?”

_ “He has to choose, you need to choose,”  _ the woman said, eyes which were supposed to be dancing with joy oddly serious. Spectral hands were placed on Nathalie’s shoulders, “ _ You need to choose him.” _

Nathalie shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

_ “He gave you yours, give him his. Choose him.” _

Nathalie woke with a start. She was panting, flushed, the blankets were too hot, the air around her was too cold. In the darkness only the full moon shone, casting its bluish light along the floor. The panes of the window took on the shape of prisoner’s bars. And as Nathalie frantically glanced around, she caught sight of something so horrifying, it nearly made her scream. There on the mirror, in bloody scrawl, were numbers. Numbers and letters. Her mind whirled, what on earth could it mean? Four numbers, four directions. L and R, and numbers. And then it hit her. Left, right, the numbers were instructional. A code scrawled down on her mirror. And only one type of device it could possibly be the key to. In the darkness Nathalie made her way to Gabriel’s study. To the painting where she knew his safe lay behind. A few shaky turns of the dial, and a few mistakes because of how she had only the moonlight to guide her, but she did it. She was in. And there innocently resting atop the pile of valuable belongings, as though expecting her prying, was a note addressed to Gabriel in a script Nathalie would recognize anywhere. It belonged to her father. With trembling hands Nathalie lifted the letter from the safe and turned to the windows. In the darkness she slowly made her way through the contents and nearly fainted.

Sold. she’d been sold. By her own parents. She’d been sold to Gabriel Agreste, by her own parents. The letter detailing that he was free to do with her as he wished, reading between the lines she couldn’t believe how much her disgust and disdain for her own father grew. She knew exactly what he was implying. Had she really meant so little to them? In comparison to the money he’d sent, a tidy sum with a lot of zeros. Apparently it was so.

She heard the door open. Heard the footsteps. But as she glanced up in the mirror, she knew it wasn’t the shine and blur of the tears building in her eyes that caused the specter of the woman, whom she knew without a doubt was Emilie, floating silently behind him. Yet as soon as she blinked and a tear broke free, the other woman was gone.

“Nathalie,” his voice was toneless, but was she simply projecting the sympathy she thought she could detect.

“Why?” she asked him as she turned around and he saw the letter in her hands.

“Nathalie please,”

“They sold me to you,”

“I know.”

“They  _ sold me _ to you,” she repeated, “And you never told me. You let me think they were going to come for me. That I would go back to my old life. Why?”

“They didn’t sell you to me,” Gabriel replied simply, “I purchased your freedom from them.”

“Freedom?” she was incredulous, “What part of being locked away in a house do you consider freedom?”

“More than being locked away and forcibly wed to someone you didn’t even care about,” he argued.

“I read the letter in my father’s own hand!” Nathalie shouted at him, “For enough money he expects me to become your whore!”

“But that’s not what you’re going to be at all. Nathalie calm down,” he strode forward and grabbed her by the wrists, “This isn’t like you.”

“Well-” the retort died on her lips as she glanced over her shoulder and saw Emilie again. Still manacled by his hands Nathalie shook her head and rubbed at her eyes. Once again the second time she looked the specter was gone, “I don’t know what to do anymore,” she whispered defeatedly, “I think, I honestly think I’m going insane.”

“Shh,” Gabriel hushed her, “Perhaps I’ve been too harsh. I should have been honest with you, but I just couldn’t think of a way to tell you-”

“That I’ve been discarded by my own family?”

“Yes, that.”

Nathalie didn’t say anything, but the tear broke free. And Gabriel pulled her in closer, stiffly hugging her to him. It wasn’t comforting in the slightest, except for the fact that he was trying. He had been trying this whole time; his attempts, however, were just high handed and overbearing. He’d bought her her freedom, and demanded nothing in return.

“You could have told me,” she murmured quietly into his chest.

“I know,”

“You could have lorded this over my head,”

“I know,”

“You could have used this to force me into any number of degrading and humiliating acts.”

“I know,”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I…” he seemed at a loss for words, “I just couldn’t.”

And all at once Emilie’s enigmatic words came back to her. He gave you yours, give him his. Her freedom. But what did Gabriel need freeing from? As she thought of the specter who was surely no more than the product of her unraveling sanity, she began to fret again. Nathalie pushed herself out of his arms.

“I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head in a daze, “I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” Gabriel asked her.

“I keep seeing her,” Nathalie told him, though not really cognizant of anything at all, “I see her everywhere. In her portrait, in the garden, I close my eyes and there she is. And she wants me to- but I don’t know how.”

“Who?” Gabriel asked, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“It started as a game,” Nathalie clutched at her arms, “I was so bored, and the library provided more than enough fodder, I picked her to be the ghost, I didn’t know back then. But now, now she won’t leave me alone. I’m sorry, Gabriel, I didn’t know. Please, make her go away.”

“Who?” Gabriel grabbed her by the shoulders and lightly shook her, “Who are you talking about?”

The name left her lips like that of a forbidden word, “Emilie,”

His face was shocked. But as she began to sob uncontrollably Gabriel simply pulled her back into his arms and pet her hair in a calming motion,

“It’s alright,” he soothed. They both knew the words were merely platitudes. But if pretty lies were what she needed to hear to calm herself, then he would say them, “Everything is going to be okay.”

And for a moment, for one foolishly bright moment, Nathalie believed him.

MLB

The dreams, the visions, they stopped after that. The ghost of Emilie was no longer a problem. However, Nathalie’s burgeoning feelings for her host were. He was honest with her now, at least, more honest than he had been. But he still had some secrets,

“I will tell you everything that I can, Nathalie,” he’d told her the morning after that night, “But there are some things I just can’t, I won’t have you mixed up in all this.”

“So why don’t you send me away?” she asked.

“I like having you around.”

Like honey to a bee. The small bit of sweetness had sent her head spinning dreamily for about half the day afterward. And every moment after that. They spent more time together, and yet she felt as though they were fast approaching some precipice, some crest which would send her tumbling. To ruin or reward she had no idea. They talked, he spoke with her,

“Emilie,” she was a sore subject for him, as he clearly still loved her very much. But she made him remember the happier memories, never asking about the sad ones, “Our marriage was arranged, just like yours was to Mister Stone. It was all about politics. The only difference was that I actually wanted her. But she, she didn’t want me. It worked out in the end, but was she determined to make our marriage hell in the beginning…”

There was a smile on his face. He only ever smiled when talking about Emilie. Nathalie felt her heart seize with happiness and envy. She would do anything to make him smile like that for her. Perhaps the isolation was getting to her. Spend enough time with anyone and you grow fond of them. Spend even more time and you begin to fancy yourself in love. This broken, broken man, losing his love had damaged him badly, and despite how much she wanted to help, she knew that ultimately the decision to heal had to be his and his alone.

She knew he wasn’t ready, because he still visited the crypt. Every night. And one night, there was a storm. In the pouring rain he and Nooroo went to the crypt. It felt very reminiscent of the night that had ended up bringing her to him so long ago. Power, ancient and primal was in the air. And while Nathalie had enjoyed her new privilege of being allowed outside with gusto, it was also with caution. She was inside before sunset, and never took anything more than breakfast out on the terrace. But tonight, tonight she felt wild. Tonight was the night for truth. Nathalie watched them from the window, and couldn’t stand it anymore. Whatever was in that building, she had to see it for herself.

Duusu caught her on the way out. The maid simply sighed resignedly, “This had to come to an end at some point, after all,” she said, affixing a piece of jewelry to Nathalie’s clothes and following her out into the deluge.

Nathalie’s heart beat louder and louder with every step. And had Duusu not been with each the whole way, Nathalie was sure she would have chickened out. Gone back to what she now knew as normal. But time, time was running out. Emilie had said that. Was tonight all that was left? Nathalie opened the door. Of everything she expected to find in a miniature necropolis, two glass caskets with pristine bodies in them was not even a remote possibility. Gabriel was knelt down before them, lined up with the space between them. He looked even more broken, if that were at all possible. One of the bodies was Emilie, golden and serene in her repose. The other, a young boy who was her spitting image.

Gabriel’s body language spoke of sorrow, and of guilt, but not of ignorance. He had heard her come in and they both knew she was here, and that she had questions.

“What happened?”

“That,” Nooroo’s voice cut through the gloom, though the butler himself was nowhere to be seen, “is a long story.”

“Nooroo?” Nathalie looked around, “Where are you?”

In an instant a purple blur zipped up in front of her face, “I'm right here,” the Butler said, “Now you see me as I truly am.”

“What  _ are _ you?”

“A Kwami,” Duusu chimed in, “Just like me,”

There were two colored blurs now, one in the style of a butterfly, and one a peacock. Nathalie couldn’t believe it. Just what had been going on here?

“We know you must have questions,” Nooroo continued, “Master, would you like to tell her what happened?”

“No,” Gabriel said without moving.

“But-” the purple Kwami protested.

“No,” Duusu hushed him, “Mistress must find out for herself.” 

“Gabriel?” Nathalie questioned, daring to use his name just to impart how  _ serious _ it all was, “What happened to them?”

Gabriel took a deep breath in, and held it. For a moment Nathalie worried whether his intention was to make himself pass out so he could avoid answering. Then it was let out in a long sigh, “It will not surprise you,” he began, “To learn that myths of magic and magical beings have existed for many, many years. What  _ will _ , however, is learning that there is more truth in those myths than most people give credence. A long, long time ago, seven Kwamis were bound to pieces of jewelry by a powerful mage. Each concept associated with that Kwami became its special power. Luck and creation, chaos and destruction, transmission, protection, illusion, and so on. These pieces of jewelry were given to those worthy to help protect the balance of the world. In time, they were passed down, or taken as prizes of war. Unknowingly, both Emilie and I inherited our respective miraculouses. Nooroo is mine, Duusu was hers. Together we used their powers to further build and protect our home. We had a child, Adrien, who was gifted the power of the black cat, of destruction. One of the more powerful miraculouses placed in the hands of a youth, I didn’t like it, but Emilie convinced me of that good it would do to have it...”

He stopped. Nathalie placed a hand on his shoulder and knelt down beside him.

“And then?” she prompted.

“There was an attack,” Gabriel responded, voice lost and eyes far away, back into the past, “Adrien was still learning how to use his powers. He was good at hand to hand combat, but not the magical aspects. And unfortunately, neither the peacock nor the butterfly are intended for anything more than melee fighting. We create armies, and we lead them, but we do not often fight ourselves. Adrien was in danger, struck by a sword. Emilie lost herself with worry and went out after them. I tried to stop them, I called one of my champions to protect them. But the enemy…” Gabriel shook his head,

“The enemy had magic of their own. The objects which housed my butterflies, how Nooroo is able to transfer his power to others, kept getting destroyed. And still, all I did was stay behind. Emilie unleashed a powerful aura at the same time Adrien used his own. Alone they are dangerous but combined they were completely unstable, especially when the enemy struck the peacock’s brooch with an enchanted sword. The resulting blast knocked out everyone in the area. But the enemy dragged their assailant away. Emilie and Adrien were… lost, to put it mildly. I could never tell if they were dead or alive, so I had them brought here. Because of the incident, Duusu remained active though her holder was struck down. She and Nooroo took on human forms to attempt keeping things running.”

“And… how long ago was this?” Nathalie asked.

“Almost two years,” Gabriel replied, “For the first, I became a monster, using countless new types of champions, these ones I called Akumas, to try and track down the only thing that could fix all of this.”

“And that was?”

“Like I said before, the Black Cat miraculous is one of the two most powerful in existence. Its counterpart, the Ladybug miraculous, is the other. Separate and alone they are still incredibly powerful, but combined they can alter the fabric of reality itself. There’s just one catch,”

“Isn’t there always with magic?” Nathalie asked.

“You’re taking this remarkably well,”

“The evidence is floating in front of me, how could I possibly ignore it? Besides, stranger things have been happening to me lately. Now, continue,”

“Ah yes, the price. In order for something to be given, something must be taken. The rule of equivalent exchange. So in order to bring back one of them, someone else would have to die in their place. For a whole year, I sent out countless Akumas across the world, instructing them to track down the Ladybug miraculous. Eventually, I succeeded, and got some well deserved revenge. As it turns out, the magic of that attacking force had been Ladybug’s the whole time. Regardless, I succeeded.”

“So why aren’t they back?”

“Like I told you,” Gabriel said, “In order to bring one of them back, someone else has to die. The problem is, there’s only one of me. And for a year, this has been my struggle.”

Nathalie looked at the two resting. They looked only like they were sleeping, but in her dream Emilie had said they were running out of time. A decision  _ had _ to be made, didn’t it? And then it hit her,

“Me,” she whispered, “You could have used me.”

“Pardon?” Gabriel looked over to her a moment.

“You bought my freedom, you bought  _ me _ . You could have had them back, why didn’t you?”

“I…” Gabriel answered, “I honestly don’t know. I thought about it, many times. But every time I went to begin, I just… couldn’t.”

Nathalie felt her heart beat erratically and her cheeks flush at the statement. That, and the confused, yet earnest intensity in his eyes. Did he? No, no that was impossible.

_ “Nathalie…” _ suddenly she heard Emilie’s voice. But the specter herself was nowhere to be seen. 

In a daze Nathalie rose and strode to the coffin which held her, “You,” she whispered, “It’s you.”

_ “Nathalie…” _ the voice seemed to resonate from the casket, but Emilie remained still.

“What is it?” Nathalie asked her.

_ “Time is almost up _ ,” Emilie told her, “ _ He needs to make a choice _ ,”

“How can you ask him to pick between the two of you?” Nathalie asked, “He loves you both, and there’s only himself. He refuses to use me.”

“ _ I know _ ,” Emilie replied, sounding somewhat melancholy, “ _ Take care of them for me _ ,”

“I, what?”

“ _ I could never ask Gabriel to choose me over Adrien. I’ve lived my life, but Adrien has so much more to experience. Choose him, use me _ .”

“No,” Nathalie whispered, shaking her head in disbelief, “No, you can’t- I can’t tell him that.”

“What’s going on?” Gabriel approached, “Who is talking to you?”

“It’s Emilie,” Duusu flew nearer, “I can hear her too.”

“Emilie?” Gabriel seemed surprised, “She’s… been here the whole time?” The Kwami nodded, “Well, what is she saying?”

“ _ Tell him _ ,” Emilie implored her, “ _ Tell him to let me go. Save our son, it is my last wish _ .”

“Please don’t make me do that,” Nathalie begged the woman, “I can’t do that to him.”

“ _ Just as you can break his heart, you can surely mend it _ ,” Emilie informed her, “ _ He doesn’t know it himself yet, but I have seen it. He may love me, but he no longer needs me. Let me go, let him live again, free of my ghost, with Adrien. Please, you need to tell him. If he hesitates any longer he will lose us both, and not even the combined powers of the miraculous will be able to bring us back _ .”

Tears were forming in her eyes. Not for herself, but for the fact that she would have to break this already broken man even further, and tell him that his wife wanted to die, if it meant it could save their son.

“I-” Nathalie’s mouth opened and closed. She gaped like a fish as she tried to tell him what Emilie wanted him to do.

In the end, it came out through a loss of emotion the likes of which Nathalie hadn’t had since she was an infant. Composure had always been her number one asset, composure and cunning. But having to tell a man what his fading wife wanted him to do, who she wanted him to save. She couldn’t imagine anyone else having to do this and being able to live with themselves afterward. If the stories had taught her anything, it was that Gabriel adored Emilie and would do anything she asked of this. The question was, would he have the fortitude to do it this time? And if he didn’t, if he saved Emilie, would he sacrifice himself, or her? Though she didn’t doubt he had considered it before, what she did was his rationale for not going through with it. He didn’t have a name for it, nor a reason to explain it. All he said was that he couldn’t, not that he wouldn’t. Nathalie closed her eyes and collapsed into a ball at the casket’s foot. She had said her piece, and now all that was left to do was watch the outcome. She heard his footsteps echoing in the chamber; they walked away, stopped a moment, and then returned. Gently she felt him pull one hand away from her face, and press into it three small objects. Nathalie stopped her moment of crushing guilt long enough to examine them. Two studs with a ladybug’s back on them, and a black ring emblazoned by a green paw print. Startled eyes flew to his as he looked down upon her, but not at her.

“Put them on,” he said, voice tight, “I cannot do it. But you can, quick, and clean, and without any attachments. Do what Emilie’s asked of you, please.”

Her voice had deserted her for a moment as the gravity of what he was asking her to do fully hit her. The Kwamis had wisely made themselves scarce, this was not their dilemma to solve. Nathalie stared at the momentous power entrusted to her in the tiny little objects that barely filled the palm of her hand.

“I.. can’t,” her voice was hoarse as she struggled to her feet and returned them to him, “I cannot play god. If it is to be done then you must be the one to do it. I think that Emilie…” she could no longer hear the woman’s voice, and could not see her, so perhaps she was about to majorly misinterpret this but, “I think that she feels if she has to die, she would rather it be by your hand, to save the child you created together. It is the ultimate sacrifice, yes, but-” and here Nathalie cast her gaze to the ground, “She will never be gone so long as you never forget her.”

A hand came under her chin and lifted her gaze to his, “Thank you Nathalie,” he told her, “For the words I needed to hear. If you do not wish to see the outcome for yourself, then leave. For what I am about to do, I doubt it can be undone.”

She was torn. Part of her wanted to be there to help support him, and give him the strength to go through with this incredibly painful decision. But the other part of her, the part who was in the end a self-preservationist, realized this was a personal heartbreak; one she had no business intruding on. Her hands clenched and unclenched but ultimately she decided to leave.

“You can do this,” she encouraged as she walked past him. Then she stopped for a moment, turned around, and surprised him with a quick hug from behind, “I believe in you.”

Then she stepped out into the pouring rain. From the small windows of the crypt light began to gather, growing brighter and brighter until it became blinding. Just as quickly as it began, it was over. Nathalie returned to the house and woke Pierce, instructing him that the master would likely need his aid in a few moments. The two men returned carrying a single body, that of the young boy Adrien. Apparently the magic it took to revive someone from limbo left their body physically exhausted, because Adrien slept for another two days before finally opening his eyes. Nathalie remained in her room, drafting a letter to her parents while he recovered. The loss was something hopefully Gabriel and his son would navigate together. The response came, in the form of a carriage. Having nothing but what she had been given Nathalie packed the essential items for a journey into a single, meagre trunk. Gabriel stood at the top of the staircase, Adrien was still resting in his room. Before she left, Nathalie returned to the landing he stood on and detached Duusu’s brooch from her clothing. It was something she affixed out of habit, but it was not something she wanted to keep. At least, she didn’t until he insisted.

“Keep it,” he told her, “As a token of your misadventure here. I’m sure you’d enjoy her presence much more than I would at this point.”

“Are you certain?” Nathalie asked, “What does Duusu want?”

“I am fine traveling with you Mistress,” the Kwami poked her head out of the folds of Nathalie’s dress, a common place she’d taken to hiding in the interim, “Mistress Emilie would have been proud to pass me on to you.”

At the mention of the recently departed, Gabriel’s eyes shut tightly in pain. Nathalie indicated Duusu return to the folds of the gown to spare him needless agony. After a moment of breathing, Gabriel opened his eyes again, Nathalie was just about ready to go.

“Do you think you will ever return this way again?” he asked, his tone was casual but his eyes were prying.

“I have no reason to,” Nathalie answered honestly, “This may in fact be the last time we meet. Thank you for your hospitality, your grace,” she curtsied to him.

And without a glance backwards, despite the pang in her heart, Nathalie walked out the door.

MLB

Yet another ball, money really did a lot of heavy lifting didn’t it? Monseigneur Sancoeur had wisely invested the money he’d received from Gabriel Agreste and the family was now enjoying a more industrial form of wealth that allowed them to continue their previous lifestyle, this time with the blessing of the political environment. Nathalie had taken the sum Gabriel had paid for her freedom and used it to buy a house of her own in the center of Paris. She expected to grow into a spinster, given that every outing she’d gone on with the intention of finding romance had failed miserably. For whatever reason, she couldn’t help comparing each gentleman before her to Gabriel. Would they be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice if she had asked them to? No one ever got close enough for her to find out, especially since a lot of her suitors were ardent fortune hunters.

And yet, she’d somehow been wrangled into attending this one. Maybe she would flout convention and hide out in the card room, if only to avoid the matchmaking mamas who had nothing better to do than intervene in the lives of other people. As it was, she was hiding in a dark corner nursing a glass of wine. At least, she was until she heard a latecomer’s name announced, “The Lord Gabriel Agreste and his son, Master Adrien Agreste!”

She nearly dropped her drink. What were they doing here? Why now? She retreated further into the shadows, hoping to silence the sudden racing of her heart. No, not now. Not after all the progress she’d made trying to forget him. Not after the resolution she’d made that she would live without him, because it wasn’t love, it couldn’t be love. She’d lived without him just fine, and yet at the thought he was now here in the same room with her again? She felt as giddy as a girl in her first season. The rest of the glass was hastily swallowed and Nathalie made her way out onto the floor. Flowing with the tide of people she drifted along idly, even though her eyes scanned frantically with each seemingly lackadaisical turn of her head. At last she spotted him, but she let the tide direct herself around him. She would not approach him, not since there was no proof he’d come here on her account. 

It seemed fate had other plans. While she was busy watching him so that she might avoid him, the tide of the crowd pushed her up against his back. Startled, they turned around and faced each other for the first time in months.

“Mademoiselle,” Gabriel bowed, taking her gloved hand in his and pressing a kiss to it.

“Your grace,” Nathalie curtsied with her one free hand, “What brings you to Paris?”

“Chasing after a wayward shipwrecked woman who turned my life upside down, nothing major.”

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing that can be said in the middle of a crowded ballroom; would you care for a brisk walk outside?”

“Am I to take it you came here for me?” Nathalie said as they walked the moonlit paths of their host’s garden.

“Is there another reason I would come into the lion’s den as a nobleman?” Gabriel countered, “You returned to Paris, and after months of lying to myself I finally had to face the truth.”

“What truth?”

“I finally figured out why I couldn’t use you,” Gabriel informed her as they kept walking.

“And that was?”

“I…” he sighed, “I developed a tender for you, I liked you, I… I do like you.”

“What a candid confession,” Nathalie mused, “How very romantic.”

“I don’t know what it is,” Gabriel told her, “I liked having you around, I enjoyed the times when we talked, you were the support I needed to finally let Emilie go. And then, just when a new chapter in my life seemed ready to begin, you disappeared. I felt… bereft, the catalyst to everything had come and was gone, and I tried to move on with Adrien but it felt… hollow somehow. That sounds wrong, doesn’t it?”

“Sorry to hear your own flesh and blood isn’t enough for you,” Nathalie deadpanned, “But I fail to see what it has to do with me.”

“Adrien  _ is _ there for me,” Gabriel argued, “But he’s still just a child. He doesn’t understand what happened, and I don’t plan on telling him just yet. You’re the only other person who can understand what happened.”

“A kindred spirit does not make for a viable partner in any regard,” Nathalie countered, “But I feel you’re simply dancing around the issue. Just say what it is you want to say,”

Gabriel stopped their momentum then. And moving more quickly than she had ever seen him he cupped her cheek and gently kissed her. Nathalie blinked in surprise, even as the motion was over before it could truly begin.

“That,” Gabriel told her, “That’s what I wanted to say, that’s what I’ve wanted to do since the moment you gave me the strength I needed to do what Emilie wanted me to do. I like you Nathalie Sancoeur, and I would very much appreciate the opportunity to court you.”

“I…” her head was still a little frazzled from the shock of his actions, “Is it not a bit too soon?” she asked, “You just let her go… I want to help you, but I can’t be her replacement.”

“Do you want the courtship to be slow?”

“Gabriel, your grace,” Nathalie said, “You just let her go. You’re still learning to be whole on your own again are you not? I’m… willing, believe me I am. But I want to be sure you want me for me, and not because I was simply the person who was there. May we simply be friends first?”

“You know the gossips will talk,”

“I care little for what they say these days. It doesn’t matter what they think, not so long as we know the truth, right?”

“And what is the truth Nathalie?”

“The truth is… I like you Gabriel, I have for a while.”

“And you expect me to wait after telling me that?”

“Walk before you run.”

Gabriel sighed, “I understand, I’ve never been a patient man so I can’t say I particularly like it. But I understand your reticence.”

“Thank you,” Nathalie said, “But I warn you if you do things like that again I will be hard pressed to resist.”

“What?” Gabriel’s look was sly, “Things like this?”

He kissed her again, longer and more languid than the first time. Nathalie’s head swam dreamily and by the time they broke away for air she was in his arms and clutching at his shoulders. How had that happened?

She glared at him without any heat, “Very funny your grace,” she told him, “But be forewarned that there is a price to pay for teasing me.”

“I think it’s one I’ll look forward to paying,”

“Believe me,” Nathalie pulled out of his arms and sauntered back to the ballroom, putting a deliberate swing in her hips since she knew he was trailing behind her, “By the time I’m done, you will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely thank you for reading this and hope you enjoyed it. Leave a comment if you can, until next time everyone!


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